Romancing the Romulan
by LornaWinters
Summary: A romance authoress hits writer's block and wishes her life was more like her stories. She gets her wish, but not in the way she imagined.
1. Writer's Block

**The idea for this story came to me after watching _Romancing the Stone_, (no, I don't own it-duh!) hence the title. While there are a few similarities to the film, you'll soon see it's an entirely different tale. **

**Also, a certain dashing Romulan left me a review a while back, asking me to include him in a future story. His alluring words and manner of address moved my fluttering human female's heart to such an extent that I eagerly promised to oblige his humble request. You'll find out who he is in the next chapter.  
**

**Thanks everyone!  
**

* * *

"I hate my life!" the woman cried as she lay on the floor, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. "What's the point of all of this?"

Ever since before she even learned to read, Lorna Winters was a born storyteller. She began her career by telling her tales to the birds on her window sill. What she really wanted was a pet cat. But her parents wouldn't let her have one, so her feathered friends had to suffice.

When she was old enough to go to school, she met her first human friend-another girl named Anne. After a few weeks, Lorna grew brave enough to confide the facets of her vivid imagination to her new companion. Anne adored her stories, and even made some contributions to them herself. Each day, the two girls would spend their entire recess in their pretend realms.

Sadly, once the kindergarten year was over, Lorna's family moved away, and she never saw her friend again. Her parents were both in Starfleet, and their postings changed often. As a result, Lorna never spent more than two years on any one planet. And while she grew up seeing many wondrous things and places most people could only dream of, she was alone.

She turned to her daydreams for solace. Her second grade teacher, instead of punishing her for not paying attention in class, recognized that she had a special gift, and strongly encouraged her to write about her fantasies. It was only natural that Lorna would become a writer when she finished school.

But now, Lorna had hit a block. In her mind was a blank, empty canvas, but she had no idea how to fill it. All of this, of course, had happened before, but the experience was no less devastating. She felt worthless and stupid, though she knew it wasn't really the case.

"Let it go, and write something else until it comes to you again—it _will_ come eventually," her favorite high school teacher had once advised her.

What was truly bothering her, however, was not her writing, but her life. She had become quite successful, with several of her books on the interstellar bestseller (my, but that had a nice ring to it!) lists. Writing was her reason for living, the driving force in her life, her obsession. All across the galaxy she was known and loved.

But few if any of her fans knew of the lonely journey that was her reality. Contrary to what one would think, she had never been in love, never even been on a date—unless one counted the prom.

"If only my life was more like one of my stories..." she whispered dejectedly. Each night, she dreamed of a swashbuckler with flowing blond hair, intense blue eyes, and a thick English accent. She wanted a hero who would sweep her off her feet and rescue her from the doldrums of her mundane existence.

Her pity party was interrupted by the doorbell.

"Whaaaat?" she groaned. It was Catherine, her agent.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" Catherine was the closest thing Lorna had to a friend. Like a few of her teachers, she understood her—sometimes better than she understood herself. What's more, she had taken it upon herself to become Lorna's mentor, as well as her agent.

"No." Lorna rolled over and got to her feet. Her apartment was a reflection of her current state. The large heaps of dirty laundry and menacing stacks of dishes in the kitchen said it all.

Catherine was not surprised by any of this, and at once she saw the problem. "You're too hard on yourself. You need a vacation to clear your head."

Lorna blinked. "But the deadline is tomorrow! Ahem, aren't _you_ supposed to be the one reminding _me _of that? I don't have anything to present!" she confessed.

"You let me worry about that," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"But what about John? He's gonna flip!"

"He's waited this long, he can wait a little longer. It won't kill him."

Lorna's publisher was overall a decent man, but he was annoyingly impatient. Fortunately, the authoress was in the coveted position of having several publishing companies vying for her work, as well as a large and devoted following of fans. Since there was such a demand for her books, in theory, deadlines were more like guidelines. But Lorna had never dared to test that assumption.

"No, he'll just kill me," Lorna pouted.

Catherine laughed. "You have to remember that John is, at heart, a reader. He gets excited when he reads your stories and wants to know what's going to happen next. You should be flattered."

"I am, it's just..."

"You need a vacation," she repeated firmly. "Trust me, Lorna. Let it go—just until you get back. It'll still be there."

Lorna sighed. "Alright, you've convinced me. But where should I go? My brain is like Jello."

"Pack your bags and let's go to lunch. I'll bring some travel brochures." She turned to leave.

"Catherine," she called after her, "Thanks. I'm sorry for acting like a spoiled brat. I really don't mean to be."

The agent's face was full of understanding. "You're not a brat, kiddo. You're just in a rut. Now hurry up. I'll be back for you in an hour."

* * *

"Why not Risa?"

Lorna shook her head. "_Everyone_ goes to Risa. I'll be recognized and flattened by some crazy mob."

Catherine wasn't deterred in the slightest. She watched as Lorna shoveled rice pilaf and falafel into her mouth, and realized that the girl hadn't eaten breakfast. Knowing the temperament of writers in general, and this one in particular, she probably hadn't eaten dinner the night before, either.

"Okay," she said patiently. Now for the option she had intended to suggest from the start. "How about Corporatia?"

The girl looked up and swallowed. "Where's that?"

"Bingo! I hoped you hadn't heard of it."

"So, spill." Lorna took another bite, but her interest was clearly awakened.

"Picture this: Quaint buildings nestled in mountainsides, fabulous restaurants and wineries, spas, theatres, a grand historical library, and shopping—you'll be able to shop 'til you drop."

"Sounds exciting," she said wistfully, "What's the catch?"

Catherine chose her words carefully. "Well, it's not exactly where most people would think to go on vacation. It's an interstellar business center."

"What?" Lorna gawked. "That sounds like a drag! And I don't wanna be around all those people right now…"

"You need to be around people again, for your own good," she insisted. "You've been a recluse for the past month. It isn't healthy. Besides, how else do you think I'm going to appease John? I'll tell him you're going there for research."

"But that's a lie."

"Not really," she smirked. "I know you. This is exactly the kind of place for you to find inspiration. Consciously or sub-consciously, you'll get ideas from it for your story in some form or another."

"Well…okay. I guess I can check it out."

"Good! Now here are your tickets." She produced a PADD from her purse, which contained all the necessary documents. "You leave first thing in the morning."

* * *

Early the next morning, Lorna sleepily pushed herself onto the transport. She really needed to stop pulling those silly all-nighters. Once she got to her seat, she reclined and took a sip of coffee.

_Corporatia?_ Even its name sounded dull and official. Was she seriously going there for a vacation? How did she wind up in these kinds of situations? Catherine obviously had planned it from the start. Why would she think that drab planet would appeal to her? Still...it was better than being trampled to death by rapid mobs on Risa. And no one would look for her in a place like there—for good reason, too.

She looked at the PADD. Hmmm. It was a neutral world, though all of the major powers had a presence there. The Federation, the Klingons, the Ferengi, the Cardassians, and even the Romulans.

"Well, fancy that," she said. She had been to numerous places before, but this would be the first time she would ever leave the Federation. She continued to read.

No weapons of any kind were allowed, and so it was considered to be one of the safest planets in the galaxy. Its position of strict neutrality made it an ideal place for banks.

"Just like the Old Swiss," she chuckled. The thought made her somewhat hopeful. Switzerland was a beautiful place, after all.

There were indeed countless fine restaurants, markets, spas and theatres on Corporatia.

"Guess all the corporate desk jockeys have to have somewhere to go on the weekends. But if all of these places are closed during the week I won't be a happy camper." She sighed and put the PADD away. "Oh, yes, just the place I'll meet the dashing Englishman from my dreams..."

The transport took off, and Lorna closed her eyes to take a nap.


	2. Corportatia

**Many thanks to 0afan0, thyme2read, and BewilderedFemale for your reviews!  
**

* * *

It was a bright sunny morning on Corporatia. Lorna's spirits were somewhat lifted when she peered out of her hotel window at the lake down below. She sipped her coffee and watched the hoards of people from countless worlds rushing around everywhere. Since she had slept in, she had missed the morning commute, so she decided she would make a point of getting up at her normal time the next morning. Like most writers, she knew that people watching was a great way to get ideas for stories.

Her next major source for inspiration was the daily news. Not much was going on. There was little crime outside of crooked politicians behaving like crooks. A report about one of them having an affair with a client caught her attention, but then she remembered that she had already written a story with that scenario.

Ah! Several interplanetary representatives were pressuring the powers of Corporatia to tighten the security of the banks. Apparently, there were rumors of a possible heist being planned. Now that would make for an interesting plot.

"Yes, that's what I'll go with..." she decided.

Lorna hopped in the shower and got dressed. Now she needed to think of characters. It was nearly lunchtime—one of the best times to people watch! She headed for the restaurant nearest to her hotel. On the way, she saw a sign for the local opera company. _La Traviata_ was playing that night.

_Ah, so there are activities to do on weekday nights. Good._

Lunch at Le Petit Café was in full swing by the time she arrived. There was a fifteen-minute wait, but she didn't mind. She stood under a tree and scanned the crowd for someone to spy on. It wasn't long before she found exactly the kind of thing she was looking for. A man and a woman at one of the outside tables were arguing about their relationship.

The couple were conscious of being out in public, and attempted to be discreet about their disagreement. As a result, it was difficult to hear all that was being said. But from what she could tell, things were getting juicy. There was another tree not far from them, and Lorna made for it. She couldn't have planned for a better situation herself!

"You said you weren't going to see him again!" the man hissed. Judging by his accent, it was plain enough that he was from Alpha Centauri.

"Well, if you had married me-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm a woman—I need commitment!"

"_Commitment?_ What do you think-"

But Lorna didn't hear the rest of the tiff. She was so intent on getting to the spot behind the tree that she didn't notice the jogger making his way down the sidewalk. He collided right into her. Lorna was roughly pushed to the ground, and her hands and knees scraped on impact.

"Why don't you watch where you're going?" she snapped.

"Forgive me," he said calmly, "I was distracted. I trust you aren't injured. Please, allow me to help you up." She looked up to see a Vulcan standing over her.

It was bad enough that she was hurt and bleeding, but now the couple had moved on and she had missed the rest of the dialogue. She was livid.

"I can get up without your help! You've done enough, thank you." She shook her arm loose from his grasp.

"Please accept my apology-" he attempted.

"Just go away!"

The Vulcan paused. "As you wish." And with that, he continued down the sidewalk.

As she watched him go, she suddenly felt guilty. He was only trying to be polite, and she was inexcusably rude to him. Lorna sighed. In all likelihood, she would never see him again. But if she did, she resolved to apologize.

The hostess announced that her table was ready. After cleaning up in the bathroom, she sat down at her table.

"Are you alright, Ms.?" the waiter asked when he saw her hands. He was kind of cute. He had flowing blond hair, which was neatly tied back, and friendly blue eyes. Unfortunately, he didn't have an English accent.

_Oh, well,_ she thought, _he's only a waiter anyway_. She wanted a man who would take her out to these types of places, and she doubted it was possible on this fellow's salary.

After lunch, she went shopping to buy a dress for the opera. Not that there was anyone to impress. She perused the stores for a few hours, and at last came upon the perfect scarlet chiffon gown. It was floor-length and tied over one shoulder. Lorna had always been too self-conscious to wear anything revealing, so she tried it on first. To her relief, it covered enough for her tastes, and she bought it.

Next, she headed to the spa. She was in the middle of a pedicure when the phone rang. It was Catherine.

"_So how are things going, kiddo? You'd better be going out and doing things!_"

"Oh, I am," she assured her. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to the opera tonight. It's the first season in their new theatre."

"_That's wonderful, sweetie! And you sound like you're in much better spirits today_."

"I am," Lorna repeated.

"_Good. Now you be sure to have lots of fun and take plenty of pictures for me._"

Yes, pictures were a great idea! They would give her more ideas for the descriptions in her story.

Lorna walked out of the spa and noticed an imposing building across the street. It looked like a Grecian temple. A closer inspection told her it was the bank. Since a bank was going to have a major place in her story, she took oodles of pictures, from countless different angles.

Satisfied that she had enough for the moment, she headed back to her hotel to get ready for the opera. Of course, where she really wanted to go was the library, but that would undoubtedly be an all-day affair, and it was already the middle of the afternoon. It would kill her if she went there and only had a finite amount of time, so she firmly pushed it aside for the next day.

Across the street, she saw that another Vulcan wearing all black was staring at her. He looked imposing and official, and it made Lorna nervous. But she ignored him and went about her way. After a while, she scanned the area to see if he was still around. As far as she could tell, he wasn't following her.

_Good riddance,_ she thought, _I've dealt with enough Vulcans for one day_.

* * *

By that evening, Lorna had completely forgotten about her stalker. She slipped on her dress, styled her hair, and then contacted the front desk to have a taxi called for her.

When she arrived at the opera house, she was disappointed. It was a monstrosity, in a hideously abstract style. In ten years, it would look dated. Why didn't they go for timeless, classic architecture, like the theatre in Paris? Or on the Andorian homeworld?

The inside was more pleasing to the eye, though the décor was also blatantly 2360's. An impressive, all-glass staircase spiraled to the top level. The entire back wall was one, gigantic window, with a view of the downtown skyline. Millions of lights twinkled in the vast city, rivaling the stars above.

Lorna was giddy. All around her were people from every planet she could think of—plus many more kinds of aliens she had never seen before. She focused on them as she carefully ascended the stairs, trying not to look at the floors below.

Since she wasn't a season subscriber, she would have to share a box with someone else. Her fellow opera-attendees were an Andorian who kept mostly to himself, and a human businessman by the name of Aubrey.

"I'm not a season ticket holder, either," he explained in his thick, British accent, "I'm only here on temporary business."

It was music to Lorna's ears. What's more, he had blond hair and kind, blue eyes. But after a while, she decided he wasn't the type of man she was looking for, either. Aubrey was nice enough, but he didn't seem interested in her romantically. And he wasn't dashingly handsome, or a swashbuckler—though an argument could have been made that the corporate world was at times a cutthroat one.

The lights were dimmed and the curtain was raised. The beautifully haunting overture of _La Traviata_ began. Before long, she was lost in the enchanting romance of Violetta and Alfredo.

During the last aria, a sudden movement in the box across from hers caught her eye. She couldn't be completely certain, but it looked as though the Vulcan from the bank was staring at her. He quickly looked back to the stage when he saw her glance his way. As discreetly as she could manage, Lorna focused her opera glasses on him to get a better look. He _was _the Vulcan from the bank!

Without warning, he lifted his own binoculars in her direction. She dropped hers in shock, desperately hoping that he hadn't seen her. But then laughed to herself. This was ridiculous! Why did one of the few men to notice her have to be a Vulcan? How boring was that? At the same time, she was curious. Why would he stare at her?

Before her mind could start the "what would happen if" process, the soprano finished the aria. The audience applauded. It was time for the intermission.

"Well," said Aubrey as he stretched his arms behind him, "would either of you like a drink? My treat."

The Andorian declined and flipped through his program.

"I thank you, yes," said Lorna. She followed him out down the hallway to the refreshment counter and asked for a glass of pinot noir.

From her conversation with Aubrey, she learned that he was actually from Australia, and had his company headquarters there. Lorna felt silly for making the mistake, but was relieved that she hadn't actually said anything about him being British. He was a regular at Corporatia, though he seldom spent more than a few weeks at a time. He proudly whipped out pictures of his wife and kids, and continued talking.

"Did you see that Vulcan in the box across from us?" she asked him after a while, "Do you know him?"

Aubrey's smile faded, and he lowered his voice. "Er, yes. That is, I know _of_ him. He's not a Vulcan, though. He's Colonel Lovok of the Tal Shiar—they're the Romulan Secret Service, you might say. I'd stay away from him if I were you, love. They're a dangerous lot, you know."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Wouldn't have thought he was interested in opera. How odd..."

A Romulan Secret Service agent! What a great idea for a character! Lorna was intrigued. Up to that point, she had never considered having a hero with dark looks. They were always the villains.

_A Romulan James Bond. Hmmm..._ Yes, her heroine would at first think he was a villain, but then he would rescue her and show his true feelings... This was going to be her best story yet!

"Miss Lorna?" Aubrey slowly waved a hand in front of her face. "Didn't you hear the chime? It's time to go back to our seats."

Lorna realized she had been daydreaming. "Oh, do forgive me," she apologized.

When she returned to her seat, the Colonel was no longer there. The performance resumed, yet he still did not appear. By the third act, it was apparent that he wasn't coming back.

_Well, drat! _ But no matter. The wheels of her story were turning at warp speed!

* * *

After the opera, she bade Aubrey goodnight and made her way out of the theatre with the rest of the crowd. The performance had been a good one, and given her current state of excitement, she knew there would be no sleeping that night. She spotted her cab and headed toward it.

"Miss Winters, isn't it?" said a masculine voice.

She turned to see the infamous Colonel Lovok. Her heart raced. He really was like a Romulan James Bond! Though he didn't have the accent, his voice was deep and alluring. Now that he was up close, his features appeared even more cold and cruel, yet no less handsome.

"Yes," she answered, self-consciously brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

The Romulan held his hand to his heart and smiled. "I knew it. Your books are quite engaging. I've read every one of them. Never had I dared to dream that I might actually meet you! And, I had no idea you were so beautiful." He paused for a moment, as though entranced. "But where are my manners? Permit me to introduce myself: Lovok, at your service."

"Oh, thank you," she said shyly, "Though I'm afraid I'm just an ordinary girl with a fanciful imagination."

Lovok took her hand and kissed it, which sent shivers up her arm. His hand was warm and strong. "Not at all," he insisted, "Your stories are a refreshing diversion to my otherwise dull and uneventful life. You have shown me that true love is not impossible. I thank you for that."

Lorna knew she had to be blushing. She couldn't help it. Up to that point, men only flattered her like this in her dreams. Was this a dream? His electrifying touch was real enough. Her entire life revolved around the use of words, yet in that moment, she was at a loss as to how she should respond.

The crowd in front of the theatre was thinning quickly. Soon, they would be all alone.

"Would you consider," he continued humbly, "allowing me to buy you a drink at the pub, just there across the street?"

It was a tempting prospect. Her blood was still singing from the wine she had earlier. But then she remembered Aubrey's warning. And even if it wasn't dangerous to go on a date with a Romulan she had never met before, this man's intentions were obvious. She snapped back to reality.

"As agreeable as that sounds, Mr. Lovok," she told him politely, "I have plans for this evening already. I'm sorry."

Lovok was visibly wounded. "But Miss Winters—Lorna, you are breaking my heart," he pleaded, grabbing her hand again.

"I...I can't," she stammered. "I'm very sorry." She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her go.

At once his expression changed from pitiful agony to all-business. His fingers, which were gentle before, were now crushing. The superior physical strength of the Romulans was well-known throughout the galaxy. If he wanted to, he could effortlessly break every bone in her body.

"I'm afraid I must insist, Miss Winters," he said dispassionately, drawing out a small disruptor. "I advise you not to scream."


	3. I Don't Want to Die!

**Thank you to all of my patient readers and reviewers: 0afan0, thyme2read, BewilderedFemale, JustaCrazyMan, Ahlysha, Prizm, and of course, "Bochra" and "Martok"!**

**And to the dashing and handsome Colonel Lovok, who leaves me notes with such stirring praise and consideration: Please don't jump to hasty conclusions, my dear sir. The fat lady may have sang in the last chapter, but the story isn't over yet! ;-)**

* * *

Lorna froze in panic. Even if she wanted to scream, she couldn't. Her voice was caught up in a lump at the back of her throat.

"I dislike resorting to brutal tactics," Lovok continued calmly, "but you refused to co-operate." He gestured to his left with the disruptor, "This way, my lady."

She had no choice but to comply. The Romulan pulled her in the direction of the nearest alley. His astonishing strength quickly dissolved any will she had to resist him. Fear gripped Lorna again, as she wondered if that was going to be her last night alive.

"Wha...what do you want with me?" she cried softly.

"We will discuss the matter in a moment," he answered.

They stopped at about the middle of the alley, behind a dumpster. Lovok finally loosened his vice-like fingers from her arm.

"Alright, Miss Winters, you will now answer all of my questions. Truthfully. If you don't..." he lifted a warning brow, "I think your fanciful imagination can guess well enough what will happen to you."

Lorna held her breath and waited for the interrogation to begin. She realized with a kind of sick irony that she was getting what she wished for, that this was exactly the type of thing that happened in her stories. It was not at all what she had really had in mind, however.

"First, I want to know why you are here."

"I'm...I'm on vacation," she trembled. The night air blowing on her bare shoulders sent shivers through her body.

Lovok narrowed his eyes. That wasn't the answer he was looking for. "On Corporatia? I don't believe you."

"But it's the truth," she averred, "That's what you asked for, isn't it?"

"You're working for Starfleet Intelligence, aren't you?"

"No!" She shook her head violently.

"I have ways of making you talk, Miss Winters, but I'd much rather not resort to them." His tone softened. "Why don't you tell me what I want to know, and save us both a great deal of discomfort?"

"But I _am_ telling you," she responded weakly. Tears welled up in her eyes.

He hesitated for a moment, and holstered his disruptor. Lorna's tense muscles relaxed. But then, to her renewed horror, he produced a long knife from the back of his belt.

"It's a pity, really, you're such an attractive woman." If he hadn't been about to do her harm, she would have thought by his tone that his apology was sincere. "I meant what I said about your stories. Truly, my lady, I wish the circumstances of our meeting could have been different." The slightest hint of regret showed on his otherwise cold, handsome features. "But, serving the Tal Shiar isn't always easy."

He held the blade to her stomach. "This is your last chance," he warned, roughly shoving her to the ground. "Why are you here?"

How could she make him believe her? She had no idea what he was talking about, or how he had come to such absurd conclusions. But nothing she could say would deter him from his gruesome designs.

"Let her go, Lovok," said a familiar voice. Another Vulcanoid stood behind him with his weapon pointed at the Colonel. Lorna couldn't place where she had seen him before.

Lovok smiled slightly. It was the first time he had done so since before he had dropped his previous charade. "Ah, N'Vek. You're later than usual. Falling down on the job, aren't we? No wonder you haven't been promoted to a commander."

"I said, let her go," he repeated firmly.

"Do you seriously expect me to do that?"

The Tal Shiar agent moved quickly. With calculated precision, he kicked the weapon out of N'Vek's hand. His second attack, however, no longer had the element of surprise, and was just as skillfully repelled. Lorna quickly slid out of their way. She watched the two Romulans struggle with wide eyes, silently praying that the one called N'Vek would prevail. It was going to be close, as they were evenly matched.

The skirmish seemed to last forever. At one point, Lovok had his knife barely an inch from his opponent's neck. N'Vek held it back with all of his strength. Lorna wondered if she should try to help him, but decided against it. There was nothing she could do.

N'Vek delivered a kick to Lovok's shin, then hurled him backwards. Lovok hastily found his feet again, and reached for his disruptor. Only it wasn't there. N'Vek had it. He fired, and Lovok collapsed to the ground.

The victor caught his breath, and turned his attention to Lorna. "I trust you are not injured?" he asked, offering to help her up.

Lorna blinked. Of course! Now she remembered: he was the Vulcan from the cafe. Except, he wasn't a Vulcan. "Um, no," she said, awkwardly accepting his offer this time.

"Is he...dead?" she asked with a glance toward Lovok's still form.

"No," he answered quickly, "It was on stun. I avoid killing Tal Shiar operatives whenever possible. They're ruthless when it comes to retaliation." He moved to walk away.

"Wait! What do I do now?" She felt afraid again, as she was completely alone on that world. When Lovok awoke, he would come after her again.

"You don't really work for Starfleet Intelligence, do you?" he realized.

"No! Do I _look_ like I do?"

He eyed her up and down. "I suppose you don't," he considered. "I suggest you vacate the premises before he regains consciousness. And leave this planet immediately." He resumed his course.

She shook her head in desperation. "Please don't leave me, N'Vek! What will I do?"

"Frankly, my lady," he said as he continued to walk away, "you aren't my problem. You're a citizen of the Federation. Go back there, and pray he doesn't follow you."

Lorna felt her heart sink. How was she going to get out of this? She wasn't a heroine from her stories. She didn't have the option of writing her way out of this one.

When he reached the entrance to the alley, he stopped, and turned back around. "I suppose that won't do, will it?"

She smiled hopefully.

"Oh, very well," he sighed, "Come with me."

N'Vek brought her to his ship, a large Romulan scout called the _Huzaharae_.

"_Blood Daughter_," he explained, "is the nearest translation I can offer."

The _Huzaharae_ had a crew of five, which Lorna was given to understand was its full complement.

"This is Centurion Markes, my second in command," said N'Vek. "He will attend to your needs, but remember, this is not a luxury resort. It is a ship of war. Do not bother him unnecessarily," he warned.

Markes saluted and then nodded in her direction, though he was clearly uncertain what to think of the new passenger. He looked to his superior for an answer, but N'Vek left him to his own surmises.

The Subcommander led her down a corridor. A crew member along the way abruptly stood aside and allowed them to pass. He, like Markes, could barely contain his curiosity about his commanding officer's mysterious guest. Lorna didn't blame them. She knew that she, a human woman in a torn formal gown, must have been quite a strange sight on a Romulan ship.

There was a door at the end of the passageway. N'Vek opened it, and gestured for her to enter.

"You will stay in here," he said in his commanding tone. "And I will ask you not interfere with my crew's performance of their duties."

Lorna swallowed as she entered. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I'm going to take you back to the Federation," he said impatiently. "What else do you expect?"

Her heart lifted with relief. She had taken a gamble by leaving Corporatia with N'Vek. There was no other alternative, however, and she was still afraid.

"We will dine in one of your hours," he said, a little less harshly.

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry-"

"You will abide by the schedule of this ship, lady," he snapped. He pulled the door shut. She could hear his assertive footsteps fade away back down the corridor.

Lorna wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath. Once she calmed down, she looked around the small room. There was a single bed and a closet. It was a spartan arrangement, though there was a private bathroom. Aside from a functional mirror, the only other object on the wall was what looked to her to be a military medal of some sort hanging over the bed.

She gasped. It occurred to her that this must be N'Vek's own cabin. As she continued to recover from her ordeal, she began to understand why he was so short with her. Whatever his mission was, his taking her on had significantly interfered with it. And now, he had to all intents and purposes been forced to give up his own living space.

Though N'Vek was strict, he had demonstrated that he was at least a gentleman. This realization set her mind at ease finally. She laid back on the bed. It was hard, but she was so exhausted that she barely noticed. Before long, she fell fast asleep.

* * *

**Ok, peeps, so yes, this **_**is **_**the same Subcommander N'Vek from "Face of the Enemy" (I just LOVE that episode!). And this tale takes place before that episode. I'm going to pretty much keep to the canon with his character, except that he's not gonna die like he did on the show. And you can probably guess the other major thing that will be different. **

**Also...I know I sometimes confuse y'all (heck, sometimes I confuse myself!), so I'll clarify that this story is NOT related to any of my other stories.**

**Thanks again for reading!**


	4. Second Thoughts

**Thank you to everyone for your support and encouragement! It means a great deal to me. Thank you especially to 0afan0 for taking time out of your busy schedule to proofread for me.**

* * *

"_Never fear, fair Lorna! I'll save you!" The knight bowed gallantly, and moved to fight the villain who had tied her to the tree. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. True, she couldn't see his face since he was wearing a helmet. Yet she remembered his flowing blond hair and piercing blue eyes vividly._

"_You stay out of this, Sir Knight," the villain warned. His sinister stare and mirthless grin sent chills down Lorna's spine._

"_The maiden I love is always my concern, vile brigand!" With that, the hero drew his sword._

_The villain attacked. He struggled in vain to defeat the hero, who effortlessly thwarted his every move. Then it occurred to him that the only way he would be able to win would be to try a different kind of tactic. He would have to cheat. He began to chant a spell, summoning the forces of darkness to his aid._

"_Not today," said the hero. In one fell swoop, he took off the villain's head. That was, after all, the only way to defeat a sorcerer. _

_Lorna squeamishly turned her head away from the gory sight._

"_Please forgive me for having to expose you to violence," he said, "There was no other way." He gently untied the ropes that held her captive._

"_I know. It's okay. I'm so grateful that you came back for me." Tears of joy began to glisten in her eyes._

"_There is something I have wanted to ask you for a long time, fair maiden. But perhaps you will think my request too bold." He stared longingly through the openings of his visor as he lifted her to her feet. "If only I dared to make it..."_

"_Dare!" She felt she was going to swoon._

_The knight got down on one knee, and removed his helmet to reveal the face of...Subcommander N'Vek?_

_She gasped in shock..._

Lorna awoke from her dream to the sound of someone banging on the door. At first, she couldn't remember where she was. Then the awful memories came flooding back to her. First of Lovok, and then the fact that she was on a Romulan ship, supposedly heading back home.

"Lady?" Centurion Markes pounded harder. He was losing his patience.

"Yes!" she sat up quickly. "I'm coming!" She straightened her clothes and hair, then opened the door.

"Subcommander N'Vek doesn't like to be kept waiting," Markes scolded. "And neither do I."

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

He narrowed his eyes, not knowing what else to say about the matter. "This way."

She followed him down the corridor, still somewhat groggy. When they reached the mess hall, the officers had already started eating. N'Vek gave her a warning glance, but said nothing. Instead, he gestured toward the empty seat beside him.

"Ah, Miss Winters," he said coolly, "How good of you to finally join us."

_He's angry_, she thought. Yet he did a good job of hiding it. She would have to make an effort to move around more quickly from then on.

She sat down and dropped the napkin in her lap. Though she hadn't been hungry earlier, she found she was now famished. Reaching for the nearest dish, she spooned a small amount of food onto her plate. She had never eaten Romulan food before, and wasn't sure she would like it. But she didn't dare to leave any unfinished food on her plate.

"You already know Centurion Markes," he continued, then nodded in the direction of the other two crew members as he introduced them. "Lieutenants Khara," a woman officer, "and D'Rok," another male officer. It was difficult for Lorna to discern their ages, but they seemed to be much older than N'Vek and Markes, who appeared to be around the same age.

She drew a breath and dared to ask the question that had been on her mind ever since she had come aboard. "Do you know why Lovok thought I was an undercover Starfleet agent?"

N'Vek finished chewing his mouthful. "I suspect it was because you were taking all of those pictures of the bank."

Lorna blinked in confusion. "Don't all tourists take pictures?"

"There aren't many tourists on Corporatia, Miss Winters." He paused. "Just why did you choose that world for a vacation? It isn't a place I would have chosen for that purpose."

The other officers chuckled in agreement.

"I didn't," she explained, "My editor picked it. I guess she thought I should go somewhere there weren't hoards of tourists to harass me."

Khara was intrigued. "You're a writer?"

"Yes," Lorna answered, nervously sipping her water.

"What do you write?" Markes asked.

"Fiction." It struck her as odd that none of them had ever heard of her. But then again, they weren't a part of the Federation, and therefore it was unreasonable to assume they'd be familiar with its list of best-selling books. The fact that Lovok knew was likely due to his being an intelligence agent. It was his job to know everything about a potential Federation spy.

She decided it was perhaps best not to tell them what kind of fiction she wrote. Somehow, she had the feeling that Romulans wouldn't take romance stories seriously. N'Vek would probably like her even less if he knew, and she wanted to stay off of his bad side. Better to change the subject before they questioned her further.

"Ah," it occurred to her, "Lovok must have thought I was involved in the rumored bank heist."

N'Vek and the Romulans exchanged glances, as though they were debating about whether or not to tell her what they knew.

"The Senate has long suspected that the Tal Shiar has a bank account on Corporatia," N'Vek explained after a moment. "A bank account which they have kept a secret from the Romulan people for none of us knows how long." He put his fork down on his plate. "I suppose we have you to thank for confirming that suspicion," he acknowledged begrudgingly.

"Me?"

"He would not have attacked you if there _wasn't_ a secret account," D'Rok supplied.

"That was his mistake, and his undoing," N'Vek agreed.

After dinner, the crew went back to their stations. N'Vek remained behind, probably to make sure Lorna went back to her cabin before he followed them to the bridge.

"Subcommander?"

"Lady?"

Lorna swallowed. "I believe I owe you an apology for my behavior to you at the cafe yesterday."

"Yes, you do."

"Then, I offer it."

N'Vek took a deep breath. "Very well. Your apology is accepted, Miss Winters."

"By the way," she continued, pressing her advantage, "thank you, for saving my life."

She could tell that N'Vek wanted to stay angry, but her gratitude seemed to have moved him. "You're welcome."

At least temporarily, his impatience was appeased. Lorna was glad of it. She was, after all, dependent on him to get her back home in one piece.

* * *

N'Vek made his way to the bridge, berating himself for being a weakling. Why had he taken her on? Even as he had stopped at the entrance to the alley, he knew he should have left her there and saved himself the trouble. Next, he would be rescuing every stray refugee from there to Romulus! He was getting soft, and it angered him.

He sat down in his command chair. Markes was staring at him again. He knew exactly why, and it only added to the grating on his nerves.

"Sir?" the centurion said in a low voice when he approached.

"What?" N'Vek responded through gritted teeth. He would have to be sure to nip this one in the bud, or he would rapidly lose the respect of his crew. In the Romulan Star Navy, that would be most assuredly fatal.

Markes shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was beginning to get cold feet now that he had actually taken this first step. But it was too late to turn back.

"With respect, Subcommander," he said, treading more cautiously.

_Do you really expect me to believe you mean that? _N'Vek asked him silently.

"As first officer, I would like to know why you have brought a human civilian on board."

N'Vek narrowed his eyes. "That isn't your concern, Centurion. Your only concern is to follow my orders." The other crew members were probably aware of what was going on. No doubt they were discreetly drinking in every word, but they knew better than to show it.

"Actually sir, it _is_ my concern." He was growing a little bolder. "We are headed for Federation space, without orders from the High Command."

N'Vek shot the most threatening look he could muster at him. Markes started visibly.

"Oh? And just _how_ do you know that I haven't received orders? Hmm? Have you been spying, Markes?"

The Centurion said nothing. He realized all too late that he had made a grave mistake in questioning his superior.

"You are reduced one step in rank. The day you question my authority again," N'Vek warned, "will be the last day of your career in the Service. Is that clear, Sub-centurion?"

Markes nodded solemnly, and cowered back to his station. Hopefully, that would be the last of any insubordination, but one never knew.

N'Vek found himself even more annoyed than ever at his new passenger.

Just then, a frantic beeping noise sounded from Khara's console. "A vessel is decloaking, Subcommander...they're firing!"

"Raise shields." He pursed his lips together and braced himself for the impact. "Lovok..."

It was now time to face the consequences of his decision.


	5. Between Charybdis and Scylla

**Many thanks to all of my readers for your patience! I'm especially grateful to my reviewers: 0afan0 (who's also my proofreader), thyme2read, Bewildered Female, Tribal Graces, Jamille Shane, MaidMarian17, Wildblume, ReaderRose, Prizm, Ahlysha, and Manda!**

**And of course, I can't forget Colonel Lovok himself, for his utterly disarming praises!**

* * *

The ship was shaking violently. It was all Lorna could do to keep herself from tumbling down the corridor, like Jill down a hill. The next round of fire abruptly brought her to her hands and knees.

Markes, who was probably on his way to engineering, helped her to her feet and continued on his course.

The battle klaxon was ringing in her ears. Why couldn't they just turn it off already? It was pretty clear to everyone by that point that they were in a battle. Seconds seemed like hours.

_Out of the frying pan..._

At long last, she fell into her cabin, found a chair that was bolted in place, and held on for dear life. It was like being in an earthquake. More than once, she lost her grip to the forceful impacts of the enemy torpedoes, and the reeling of the ship. At one point, the ship rolled completely over, and she found herself hanging, with the ceiling beneath her. Just before she lost her grip, the vessel righted itself. The less-intense rocking told her that N'Vek and his crew were shooting a fair amount of their own torpedoes. They were putting up quite a fight, though they were also taking quite a beating.

So this was what it was like to be in a battle! When Lorna had written the skirmish scenes in her stories, they had taken on a much more romantic role. Her heroes were fearless and bold, and never gave a second thought to charging into a fight. She had often wondered if she had succeeded in accurately describing her characters' emotions and thoughts in those situations. But to her renewed fear, she discovered there was nothing romantic about a real life battle whatsoever.

Her heart had finally stopped jumping up to her throat when a new alarm sounded. But Lorna was hanged if she knew what it meant. The door then opened automatically. Smoke immediately rushed into the room. Not a good sign.

_Oh, no... _ Did that mean they were abandoning ship? A flashing green arrow on the panel in the hallway outside confirmed her guess. If Lorna hadn't been frightened before, she surely was then. Once terror released its paralyzing grip, she crawled along the floor back out to the corridor.

This was just like the fire drills in grade school, she tried to reassure herself. But how far was it to the nearest escape pod? What was going to happen to her? Was this really the end? Never in all her fantasies had she imagined dying in this way.

Yet fate, it seemed, did not intend for her to die at that moment, or at least, not on the Romulan ship. Out of the haze of smoke in front her appeared N'Vek. With his appearance, a ray of hope shined into her heart.

"Good, you've followed the com panels." If he was relieved to see her unharmed, he did not show it.

"Where are the others?" she asked.

"They've already left the ship. This way," he commanded.

Lorna scrambled after him. Before long, they came to the escape pod.

"Get in." He added a shove to the order, then dove in after her. The door sealed, and there was a loud crack as the pod separated from the _Huzaharae_.

The capsule dizzily spun away from the ship. To Lorna, it felt as though they were being sucked down a whirlpool. After a while, she grew more accustomed to the rotation, just enough to keep her nausea in check.

"One question," she managed, "What's to stop them from just shooting us down?"

N'Vek's dark eyes looked directly into hers. "Nothing," he said dispassionately.

_The calm reaction of a seasoned soldier. Hmph._ It occurred to her, however, that he was perhaps also attempting to resist queasiness.

To her further surprise, Lovok wasn't firing on them. And then it dawned on her. "Why haven't they beamed us away?"

"The shell is lined with elements which scramble the transport beams," he explained. "They're going to have to pull us in with a tractor beam if they want to take us."

As if on cue, the pod jolted, and the whirling abruptly stopped.

"_That_ would be a tractor beam locking onto us," he supplied.

"Snatched from Charybdis by Scylla," she groaned.

N'Vek blinked. "What?"

Had the circumstances been different, Lorna would have relished the chance to talk about her favorite Homeric epic. Unfortunately, they were in a tight spot, and there wasn't the time to explain.

"I'll tell you later," she sighed. _If there is a later._

N'Vek was too apprehensive to really care, so he left it at that.

All too soon, they stopped. N'Vek braced himself. The door opened, and they discovered that they were in a cargo bay. A host of soldiers had their weapons pointed at them. The prisoners were promptly yanked out of the pod and manacled.

But it was not Lovok who was barking the orders. Instead, a female Tal Shiar agent stood above them. She didn't look like the type of woman one wanted to provoke.

"Major Rakal," N'Vek grimaced, "I see Lovok still keeps a tight leash on you." His quip earned him a rough punch to the stomach from one of the guards. He doubled over to the floor.

"I see you're as sarcastic as ever," she responded frigidly, "though your wit seldom rewards you."

Just then, Lovok entered the room. "Ah, Miss Winters. I apologize for my previous mistake. You must think me a brute for my villainous behavior."

Lorna was too frightened to answer. But her silence said enough. The Colonel gave her a "You're wrong about me" look, and moved onto N'Vek.

"You should have killed me," he said.

"And give your thugs an excuse to murder my family?" the subcommander shot back, still recovering from the blow.

"Instead, they will terminate _you_. That is, after your interrogation, of course." He signaled to the guards, who brought the prisoner to his feet.

N'Vek snorted in defiance. "Believe me, I won't make the same mistake next time."

Lovok chuckled ever so slightly. "I'm afraid you won't get the chance, Subcommander." Another snap of his fingers, and N'Vek was taken away.

"Please excuse me, Miss Lorna," he apologized. "I will return later. In the meantime, Major Rakal will look after you."

It was not an appealing prospect. Lorna wasn't sure who she was the more scared of, Lovok, or Rakal?

The Romulan woman narrowed her eyes. "This way."

Lorna complied, and followed her. The Tal Shiar ship was much larger than the _Huzaharae._ They went down a long corridor, up a turbolift, and ended in a conference room of some sort. After Lorna sat down, Rakal removed her shackles.

She gestured toward a pitcher of water on the table. "Have a drink."

Once again, Lorna didn't argue. She was parched. It was all she could do to stop herself from guzzling the water down like a fish. Pride, however came to her rescue. She calmly poured herself a glass and slowly sipped the refreshing liquid.

What was going to happen to N'Vek? A sadness filled her heart when she realized that she probably wouldn't see him alive again. And he had wife and kids! She felt even worse for his soon to be widow. If only there was something she could do!

Rakal watched her intently, inquisitive about her new charge. "My, what a lovely specimen of a human you are."

Lorna almost choked on her drink. "Uh...thanks."

"You must drive those Earth men positively wild," she continued. "I have to admit, I'm jealous."

Lorna rolled her eyes in disbelief. Were they _really_ having this conversation? "Girltalk" wasn't exactly what she would have expected from the Tal Shiar major.

"I'll bet you have droves of suitors from all over the galaxy." She casually leaned back in her chair.

"Not really..." Lorna urgently wanted to change the subject. If things took a turn Rakal didn't like, it could mean trouble. For the moment, she seemed to be under Lovok's protection. How far that protection extended was not something she cared to test.

"Oh, come, come," the Romulan woman coaxed, "We can talk, it's only us girls. Tell me all about human men, I'm dying from curiosity." A saucy smile crossed her face.

Lorna took another gulp of water. "Well...there's not much to say."

* * *

N'Vek was strapped into a chair, designed no doubt by some enterprising psychopath for extracting information from captives.

"I'm curious, N'Vek. Why did you save her?" Lovok pensively scratched behind his ear with one of the torture devices.

"Does it really matter?"

"Oh, I think it does."

"Get to it, Lovok!" N'Vek demanded, "What do you want?"

"It's quite simple" he answered sadistically, "I want to know everything you know."

"I'm not going to talk," the soldier insisted.

"Most people say that," he countered, "before the pain starts."

N'Vek held his tongue nonetheless.

* * *

"You really haven't noticed, have you?"

Lorna looked up at Rakal. She didn't like where the conversation was going. "Noticed what?"

"Lovok. You've intrigued him, Miss Winters. I've never seen him spare anyone before. Or admitted to making a mistake—to say nothing of apologizing for it."

That didn't bode well. Not at all. "What are you saying, Major?"

Before she could respond, the ship lurched. The now-familiar sound of battle klaxons filled the room.

Rakal grabbed her arm. "Let's go." This time, she took Lorna to the brig. Not long afterwards, N'Vek was thrown into the cell beside hers, and they were left alone.

"Who's attacking _now_?" she cried.

"The Tal Shiar didn't deign to give me that information," N'Vek snapped.

Lorna sank onto the bench. Was she never to have a moment's reprieve from all of this peril?

The space battle raged on for at least an hour. Just as it was the last time, the ship turned and whirled, tumbling the jailbirds around in their cages, like clothes in a washing machine. And then all at once it stopped. A long, haunting silence ensued while Lorna and N'Vek waited to learn the identity of their attackers.

"Are they going to show themselves?" she whispered, her own voice startling her after the noiseless interlude.

"It's more likely they'll blow the ship up once they've download the database." His hesitation suggested that he hadn't necessarily planned to tell her that before she asked.

More time went by. Then a new kind of alarm went off.

"That means we've been boarded."

"Do you suppose they're Starfleet?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head. "We'll only find out if they come in here."

No sooner had he spoke those words when the doors to the brig opened. A group of gruff, husky Klingons walked in. They weren't Starfleet, but they were the next best thing as far as she was concerned.

"Well, well, well," shouted the leader, "Look what we have here! These two should provide some amusing enough sport." He deactivated the forcefields, and the menacing gang surrounded them.

Lorna's hopes of being rescued by the Federation's allies were dashed. _These_ Klingons were clearly not at all friendly.

N'Vek motioned for Lorna to get behind him. She promptly obeyed. The air practically reeked with hostility, as the bitter enemy races sized each other up.

_Here we go again. This isn't going to be pretty..._

* * *

**The next chapter is already in the works, and it's about halfway done! Provided there aren't any "emergencies" at work, it should be posted next week!**


	6. An Accomplished Authoress

**Okay, sorry, there _were_ distractions that popped up at work. My job also requires quite a bit of writing, so by the time I get home, my creativity is unfortunately sapped. That's the line of business I'm in, I'm afraid, folks! And... I would have posted this yesterday, except that I got stuck in HELL (i.e., a board meeting) ALL NIGHT! For some silly reason, Palpatine dissolving the Senate and declaring himself Emperor crossed my mind, and I decided that he wasn't really evil after all. Don't get me wrong, I still love my job, but I could seriously do without these pointless meetings. Look for _that_ scene in a future chapter/story!  
**

**Thank you, all of my readers and reviewers!**

* * *

N'Vek chuckled wryly, bracing himself for the impending engagement. "What a pity you can't simply write us out of this situation, Miss Winters."

The Klingon leader lowered his bat'leth, and blinked. "Miss Winters? Miss _Lorna_ Winters?"

Lorna's heart lightened, and she smiled. She had long ago learned to recognize a fan anywhere. "That's right."

He looked to his subordinates, and they all burst into laughter. "What a small universe it is! And what lucky dogs we are, ha ha ha! I've been reading your tales to my warriors," he explained, gesturing to the others behind him. At once, all their hostile intentions melted away, and they vocalized their approval.

"We had no idea that a human could be capable of telling such glorious, epic stories!" said one of the warriors.

"Yes," said another, "And we have been wondering if you have Klingon blood," he examined her up and down, "But it doesn't appear to be so."

"Afraid not," she replied pleasantly, "I'm as human as they come."

"But, where are my manners?" said the boss, "I am Captain Martok. Come, we will show you the legendary hospitality of the Klingons!" He stopped, suddenly remembering N'Vek's presence.

The Romulan held his head high, prepared for whatever awful fate awaited him.

"Is he with you?" Martok asked with an air of disdain.

Lorna nodded, smiling to herself at the irony of this new development. For once, it was she who would save N'Vek's life instead of the other way around.

Martok's first officer circled N'Vek, still not sure about him. "He's not your lover is he?"

N'Vek indignantly bit his lip, but kept silent.

"Um...no," said Lorna, astonished they would ask such a question. "Subcommander N'Vek saved my life, and he was good enough to offer to take me back to the Federation."

The Klingons paused to process her words.

"Good," said Martok. "For a moment, I thought perhaps you might be conducting..." he searched for the right word, "research, for your next book. 'The role of the artist is to not look away,' right?" He turned to the others, who responded with another round of hysterical laughter.

"Come! We will bring you to the Federation on _my_ ship, Miss Winters. You will have quarters, gifts, flowers-and tonight, you will tell us a tale as we feast in your honor." He eyed N'Vek with reduced enthusiasm. "You may bring your...companion, if you wish it."

"I do," she said quickly, before either had a chance to change his mind. She could just barely hear N'Vek's sharp intake of breath.

"Let's get you off of this excuse for a ship, then." Martok's voice sounded as agreeable as Lorna imagined it was possible for a Klingon.

Just as they were getting onto the transporter pad, a security officer rushed through the doors. "Captain, one of the shuttles is missing! We cannot trace them. They must have cloaked."

"You'll never find them," N'Vek warned, "Even our military vessels cannot track the Tal Shiar-"

"I know _that_, Romulan," Martok snapped. "I'll join you later, Miss Winters."

They transported to the Klingon ship along with one of the warriors, who introduced himself as Ch'Targh, while Martok and the others inspected the rest of the Tal Shiar vessel.

Ch'Targh led them down the dark, smelly corridor of the ship. The air was heavy and full of humidity, which only served to intensify the alien odors.

"It was Lovok who escaped, wasn't it?" Lorna asked N'Vek softly.

"Yes," he answered, "No doubt Major Rakal was with him."

"Um...are those two an item?" Right after she asked the question, she wished she hadn't. But she couldn't help it. Curiosity was gnawing at her, despite the danger they had been in.

"An 'item'?" he repeated. He paused for a few seconds, and at first, she thought he hadn't understood her meaning. She decided to drop the matter immediately.

"Not that I'm aware of," he said finally. "It's unwise for Tal Shiar operatives to have any kind of ties, as those individuals at some point would be used against them. It's an inevitable fact when one leads that kind of existence. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," she replied, still embarrassed that she had asked.

For the first time since they had boarded the Klingon vessel, N'Vek smirked. "Rakal is jealous of you, isn't she?"

Lorna looked up. So, it hadn't merely been her imagination after all. "That's the impression she gave me," she had to admit.

N'Vek snorted. "She should never have joined the Tal Shiar. It will be her undoing." His disapproving scowl then softened once more to inquisitiveness. "Just what sort of books did you say you write?"

"Romance novels," she answered with a gulp. Then she firmly reminded herself that she had saved his hide, and that he was, in a way, still at her mercy. He wouldn't, he couldn't, look down on her now. Yet Romulans were notorious for their arrogance.

He chuckled quietly. "I see." He seemed to want to say more, but decided against it. "I believe my thanks are in due order," he said instead, clearing his throat.

"You're welcome," she returned kindly. It struck her that N'Vek was a thoughtful sort of man, who always chose his words carefully before uttering them. Her earlier surmise that he was also a man of honor was likewise confirmed.

* * *

That evening, the crew of the _Rotarran_ was boisterous and jovial. They had spared no pains to try to please their venerated storyteller. Lorna had been showered with flowers, chocolates, jewelry, and many other gifts that human women liked to have. Where the Klingons had procured these things, N'Vek hadn't a clue. All he could do was shake his head in astonishment at the whole situation.

Lorna all the while basked in the glory as though she were an empress. N'Vek was amused by the revelation that, in at least one particular respect, there wasn't much of a difference between human and Romulan women. He was relieved that "his empress" looked upon him with benevolence. It was she who insisted that the Klingons treat him well and give him his own quarters instead of throwing him back in the brig. He congratulated himself on the fact that had he not brought her along, he would have been killed. Then again, however, he remembered that he wouldn't have encountered the Klingons to start with if it hadn't been for her.

_The gall of them suggesting that I'm her lover! Bah!_

It baffled him that the Klingons did everything she said, even to the point that they would tolerate him, their sworn enemy. Indeed, the dogs hung on her every word.

"Storytelling is a pivotal aspect of their culture," Lorna explained.

But since when were romance novels considered to be great literature? They weren't on Romulus. And since when did Klingons care about anything other than blood and gore? He knew enough about Miss Winters by that point to be fairly certain there was none of _that _in her novels. So what was so spectacular about them?

He would soon find out, as their hosts had been clamoring for a tale at dinner the entire afternoon. He wasn't expecting much, but a part of him was curious. N'Vek was a soldier, but he had learned to appreciate the arts of the mind and tongue from an early age. His choosing the military as a career had been born more out of necessity rather than desire. Had his circumstances been different, he perhaps may have become a writer.

When he arrived in the mess hall, he took a seat next to Lorna—he wanted to be as far away from those smelly beasts as possible. Mercifully, the two guests had been served an assortment of Earth cuisine at dinner. Though experiencing the culinary arts of the humans had never been on N'Vek's list of things to do before he died, he had to admit it was preferable to choking down the slop that the Klingons were devouring like there was no tomorrow.

He learned that Miss Winters was a vegetarian. Under different circumstances, N'Vek would have scoffed at such a notion, and declared it yet another proof of human weakness. But after seeing the filthy Klingon animals consume their feed—some of which was still moving—he half considered adopting the habit himself.

To his surprise, he found he rather liked the dish in front of him. "Tabouleh," the dish was called. It was both sweet and savory; a grain of some sort, with various herbs and colorful vegetables mixed in. Highly preferable to Klingon cuisine. They were served a white wine, also from Earth, called "savignon blanc." It was either that, or bloodwine—not a difficult choice as far as N'Vek was concerned.

As the dinner progressed, the Klingons proceeded to get drunker and drunker. Before he knew it, N'Vek began to feel his own head starting to lighten. He had underestimated the mild-tasting Earth wine, as so had not payed attention to how much he had drunk.

_Careful_, he checked himself, _This isn't the place for a Romulan to become intoxicated._

The Klingons, on the other hand, had no such qualms. Bloodwine was flowing quite freely, with no signs of stopping.

"A tale! A tale!" they roared.

Lorna stood and narrated the short narrative she had been working on ever since they first asked her:

_The knight considered the lady standing before him. He still didn't know her real name. He only knew that she was a woman of some importance on her world. In the week he had spent waiting for passage back to his home planet, he had not seen her once. But he was constantly reminded of her presence in that he was her guest. To his surprise, he had been treated extremely well. He wanted for nothing, except for someone else to talk to._

_He didn't blame her for hating him. Just as he had played a part in saving her life, he had equally had a share in ruining it. Though it had not been his wish to wrong her, he had no choice except to follow orders. The extent of her feelings for her murdered husband was unknown to him, though he surmised they must have been deep for her to have challenged his lord in public._

_But there was the matter of her enchanting beauty. Oh, was she beautiful. As she stood before him, he realized that it was the first time she had let her hair down in his presence. Her soft, ebony tresses extended to just below her waist. Those alluring obsidian eyes seemed to pierce his very soul._

_Indeed, she had captivated him. He understood perfectly why Lord Haehel had married her. If ever he was presented with the same opportunity, he would snatch it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, he knew full well that she did not share his sentiments. Rather, her feelings were quite the opposite._

_It was all for the best, he concluded. Even if she were more warmly inclined toward him, they could never be together. Aside from the problem of their being from different races, she would never again be able to set foot on his world. For his own sake, it was a good thing that they were not likely to ever meet after that day._

_Nevertheless, the knight knew that she would be in his thoughts for the rest of his life. One did not forget a woman like that. He would remember her long after she had forgotten him, he mused. ____Perhaps it was just as well that he didn't know her name… _

"...And that is a preview for my next book," Lorna concluded proudly.

"More! More!" Martok banged his fist on the table, sending the _gagh_ scurrying over the side from a nearby plate. N'Vek repressed a shutter, and kicked the serpent-like worms to the waiting targs.

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait and read the rest when I publish it," she insisted. The Klingons growled in protest, but soon went back to stuffing themselves with bleeding flesh.

N'Vek couldn't help but take pleasure in the Klingons' displeasure after the discomfort they had caused him. It put him in a good mood. "That was an interesting narrative," he acknowledged to Lorna, in a voice low enough so that the others wouldn't notice.

"I got the idea from a story my father used to tell me before bed when I was little." That seemed to make her consider some other matter, and she asked, "Tell me about your family."

He shrugged. "There's not much to tell. I have a mother and a father, like anyone else. And I have a sister."

Lorna tilted her head slightly, and her cheeks turned pink. "But...I thought...you mean you're not...married?"

N'Vek swallowed. Curse Earth and its deceptive wine! Why should such a simple question unnerve him? "No, I am not." Then, to change the strangely awkward subject, he asked her about Charybdis and Scylla. She took the way out he offered her, and soon they were both deep in discussion of ancient epic poems, both of Earth and of Romulus.

They talked deep into the night, while the Klingons feasted, drank, wrestled, and fought around them. Though they had spent much time together, they had never actually just talked. Up until then, the sight of her had always annoyed him, and as a result he avoided her whenever possible. But now it was different. Now that he had stopped to listen, he found her conversation to be original and insightful. She could conjure up ideas and concepts that would have taken him his entire lifetime to think of, if ever.

When Lorna finally tired, she said goodnight and went to bed. N'Vek was also fatigued, but not quite ready to go to sleep just yet. The events of the day, as well as the uncertainty of being around Klingons, had wound him up tightly.

One of Lorna's books was sitting on a side table that held a statue of two figures wrestling each other. N'Vek sneered at it. He has seen enough of that for one day. He turned his glance to the book for a moment. _Why not?_ He picked it up and took it away from the surrounding chaos to his more quiet quarters. As he read the book, he felt his muscles begin to relax. Like the anecdote she had told earlier, Miss Winters' book was engaging and entertaining, even if it was a female fantasy.

After reading a few chapters, he found he had to acknowledge, at least to himself, that she was in fact a thoughtful and accomplished writer. (Equally as impressive to him was that the Klingons had the necessary intelligence to recognize her talent.) Clearly, there was more to this Lorna Winters than what met the eye. For the first time, despite all of the trouble she had caused him, he found he was pleased to have saved her life.

* * *

**Now who can guess where Lorna's passage is from?**


	7. it Happened One Night

**Thank you all of my readers and reviewers! I feel like I'm always apologizing for taking so long to update, so let me say again how much I appreciate your patient encouragement. **

**The good news is that the last two chapters are nearly complete. It's only a matter of fleshing out my outline for the chapters between here and there. I'm not sure exactly how many remaining chapters there will be, but right now it looks like it's in the neighborhood of four or five. The other good news is that there was a particular matter about N'Vek's character that I wasn't quite sure how to handle. Now, I've finally figured out what to do without directly conflicting with the canon—not that I think the canon is sacred and untouchable (this is fan fiction, after all!), but in this story I wanted to stick to it.**

* * *

After two days of traveling, Martok received orders from the Klingon High Command. Lorna and N'Vek naturally weren't told what exactly those orders were, only that Martok wouldn't be able to bring them to the nearest Federation station as originally planned. Though it would make things decidedly more difficult, N'Vek was relieved.

"You can't imagine our disappointment, Miss Lorna," said Martok. "Even though we're your greatest admirers, we have failed you." His head and shoulders were hanging dejectedly in what Lorna thought would have been a very un-Klingon manner. The Klingon heart apparently had a tender side. "I have my orders, you understand. You cannot go where we are bound. It may be to _Sto-vo-kor_ itself."

"I understand perfectly, Captain," she replied kindly, trying as much as possible to keep her own disappointment out of her voice. She had been pampered like a queen, and that was not an arrangement she wanted to leave. It was like getting kicked off of a cruise ship on the last day. Only this instance was worse, because she had gained friends where she had least expected. "You've done so much, and I'm very grateful."

His face brightened slightly. "I only wish I could do more."

Not long after they exchanged goodbyes, Martok dropped the two passengers off at a nearby Tholian trading post. It suddenly occurred to Lorna that she would soon be on her own again. Lovok was out there, and it was a very real possibility that he was still looking for her. She would have to keep her identity secret if there was any chance of her getting back to the Federation alive.

If only N'Vek would stay with her. With his ship and crew gone, she knew there was no chance of that. He had said so himself that he had to deal with his own problems. Lorna was afraid again. But after all she had endured, she found she had learned much, and was at least more able to control her fear. She stepped down from the transporter pad and took a deep breath to prepare herself for whatever awaited her.

The Tholians were a people who required an atmosphere vastly different from most humanoids, but they chose to maintain this particular station like those of the others throughout the galaxy. They themselves went about in environmental suits. It was most extraordinary, since the Tholians were known to be extremely xenophobic and inclined to isolation—far more so than even the Romulans. Lorna noted to herself that when it came to doing business, most peoples were willing to adapt and bend their own rules in order to bring in customers.

A news flash on a screen in the corridor outside the terminal caught her attention:

_The search continues for a missing authoress. Lorna Winters was last seen on the planet Coporatia, after she attended an opera. Eye witnesses say Miss Winters left the premises with a man who was described as "a Vulcan wearing black, or dark-colored, clothing." Officials now believe that the man may have in fact been a Romulan agent, though nothing has been confirmed at this time. A reward has been offered for any information of her whereabouts..._

N'Vek appeared in front of her. He was no longer wearing his military uniform, but instead civilian clothing, similar to what he had worn when they first met.

Lorna smiled weakly. "So, this is goodbye."

To her surprise, N'Vek shook his head. "No, I said I would take you back to the Federation, and that's what I intend to do."

She had hoped against hope that he would make such an offer, but she dared not ask. "I don't know what to say..."

"Let's move out of this busy walkway." He followed his suggestion with a gentle, but firm push. "We don't want to take the chance that you'll be recognized."

"Where are we going?" she asked, though she followed his lead. His hand felt warm against her back, and for some inexplicable reason, she felt her spine tingle and her knees weaken.

"To get some _real_ food for starts. Then we can more easily decide our course of action."

They went to a grill and bar, which boasted of an eclectic menu of dishes from many worlds. N'Vek proceeded to order a large, fire-roasted waterfowl, seasoned with savory herbs. "I trust you'll not be offended, but I've had my share of vegetables to last a while."

She was of course grateful that Martok's galley had been so accommodating, but she agreed that it would be nice to try something different. There were limits to what a Klingon cook could offer when it came to vegetarian cuisine, after all. To her delight, she saw a veggie pizza on the menu. She hadn't had pizza since Corporatia, and she had been craving it ever since. They carried their dinner to a table and sat down.

"We'll have to avoid the passenger lines—that's where Lovok will look first," he said between mouthfuls. A small but proud smile crossed his lips. "While you were saying goodbye to your groveling fans, I managed to book us passage on a Corvallen freighter bound for Deep Space Nine, a Federation outpost."

Lorna knew little about the Corvallens, other than they were traders for the most part. But she had confidence in N'Vek's abilities, and figured that she probably could not have done better herself.

"Oh, and one more thing," he hesitated for a moment, "For your protection, I told them you're my wife."

Lorna blinked suspiciously. Was he serious?

"It will draw less attention," he explained. "We don't want anyone to mistake me for _that _Romulan." He tilted his head toward the news screen above the bar.

_...If the suspect was indeed a Romulan, experts say there's a possibility he could be a Tal Shiar operative. More details to come..._

There was sense in N'Vek's suggestion. "Alright," she agreed.

Before long, they boarded the Corvallen ship. It was cleaner than Martok's ship, but just as dark. Lorna had a bad feeling about the whole situation. The captain didn't allay her doubts, either. To all appearances, he struck her as a sneaky villain, who would sell his own mother to the highest bidder. She made a mental note to put him in a story if she ever made it home.

"Welcome aboard," he said in a gruff voice. "We've prepared our best cabin for you and the missus. I hope you'll enjoy your trip."

"Just show us to our accommodations," N'Vek sighed. "My wife is very tired."

"But of course." Without further ceremony, he granted the request. He paused in the doorway. "Supper is at 18:00 hours."

"We'll eat in here," said N'Vek.

The captain wrinkled his nose. "This isn't a passenger liner. We don't cater to your every whim here."

"We paid for passage," he countered, "and that includes meals. It says nothing about where we eat them."

"Then you can come get it and bring it to your room yourself." He closed the door in a huff, leaving them alone.

Lorna was even more uncomfortable. Unlike their arrangements up to that point, they had always had separate cabins. Now, they would have to spend every night in the same room—and there was only one bed. Lorna knew N'Vek was an honorable man, but still the situation was not at all to her liking. She remembered Lovok's vice-like grip, and imagined that N'Vek possessed equal strength. If he really wanted to...

Lorna gulped, and tried to distract herself. "I don't trust him," she said, referring to the captain, "Dishonesty is written all over his face. He's going to turn us in."

"That is the kind of life he lives, Miss Winters," N'Vek countered, unconcerned. "It's perfectly natural that his face should betray that. Besides, I don't think he recognized you."

"Still, I don't like it."

"Nor do I, but we have no other choice. I'll sleep on the floor," he offered, finally guessing the real problem. He removed his jacket, and rolled it up to use as a head rest. Then he laid down with his back to her. "Goodnight, Miss Winters."

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, feeling ashamed of herself for thinking badly about the man who had, and still was sacrificing so much for her.

* * *

That night, Lorna awoke suddenly. N'Vek was shaking her. "The ship has stopped," he whispered. "We're being searched." He didn't have to say by whom.

Lorna sat up instantly. She was on the threshold of panic. "What are we going to do?"

He pulled her out of the bed and shoved her into the vanity chair. Then he ran his fingers through her hair, disheveling it so that her face was partially covered. Chills went down her spine at his touch. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and went to the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" she asked, nearly breathless.

"Pretend we haven't gone to bed yet," he hissed, turning on the sink. "Now is your chance to show just how creative you can be."

Then she remembered: they were supposed to be married. As she became more conscious, she understood his plan. Would it work? She had no time to speculate, only to act.

"Tell me what you thought of dinner," he said, loud enough to be heard in the hallway. "Frankly, I wasn't impressed. Do these Corvallens have to treat us in this shameful manner merely because we choose to travel differently from everyone else?"

There was a knock at the door. Lorna's heart leaped up to her throat. N'Vek gave her a look. _Trust me_, it said.

Lorna nodded. She _did_ trust him. If they lived through this, she would always trust him. "Come in," she called casually.

At once, the door opened, and agents rushed into the room, followed by an apologetic Corvallen captain. The Tal Shiar Major scanned the cabin. Like most Romulans, he had a high opinion of himself. He was rather young-looking, probably a hotshot straight out of the military academy. But Lorna was too alarmed to notice those little details.

"But it was either this ship, or that disgusting Klingon rust bucket," N'Vek continued from the bathroom, lathering up his hands with soap. "Not a difficult choice, if you ask me."

"Oh," she said with the brush stuck in her hair. "People here to see you, dear." She turned away, and began to hum as though she had not a care in the world.

"Who me? What do they want?"

The leader ignored N'Vek, and eyed Lorna instead. "What's your name?" he demanded, moving closer.

She turned in bewilderment. "Are you addressing me, sir?"

"Tell me your name now," he ordered.

At once, N'Vek was between her and the soldier. "That's my wife you're talking to. What are you doing in here anyway?"

"We're looking for someone. A Federation spy."

"You've had your look, now get out."

The Corvallen captain put his hand on N'Vek's shoulder. "These are Tal Shiar agents," he explained nervously, "Major Voxis is searching the entire ship. It's allowed by our treaty with Romulus."

"I don't care if they're the Praetorian Guard. I'm a loyal citizen. They have no right to barge into my quarters and start interrogating _my_ wife."

Major Voxis narrowed his eyes. "That's your wife? A _human_? How distasteful. No wonder you travel where you can least be seen."

N'Vek was on the verge of flying into a rage, and that was exactly what the major wanted. Little did the whippersnapper know he was being played like a violin.

"Honey," Lorna interrupted, "I don't know why you always have to get excited when others express their opinions. You knew your people would react like this when you married me."

He whirled around. "That's what you say every time I try to protect you! Just like the other night when that Trill made a pass at you-"

"He didn't make a pass at me! I've told you a million times, and you don't want to believe me!"

"Yes he did! I saw it, he his hands all over you, the skank!"

"You were drunk! You're always so suspicious when you're drunk—or sober for that matter!"

"You're just like all the rest of your people—sneaky, deceptive, and fickle! I'll never be able to turn my back to you! How I rue the day I wanted a human woman!"

At that, Lorna threw herself on the vanity top, and pretended to bawl in anguish.

"Now look what you've done!" N'Vek threw the hand towel he had been drying his hands with onto the floor. "I won't be able to reason with her for the rest of the trip."

"I...I have my orders. We're looking for Lorna Winters, a human writer," Voxis contended, trying to show more confidence than he really felt. "We have reason to believe she is traveling in this sector."

"Congratulations, Major Valiant." He crossed his arms in satisfaction. "You've found a tramp who can't even write a decent letter to her in-laws."

Lorna sobbed even louder.

"Will you _please_ stop that," said N'Vek through gritted teeth.

"Uh, Major, I think we've safely established that they are not the ones you're looking for." The captain motioned for them to leave. "Please forgive the intrusion, sir."

"No need to apologize," he replied with acrid sarcasm. He slammed the door behind the intruders.

Lorna looked up slowly and listened.

"I told you she wasn't Lorna Winters," they heard the captain say.

"Oh, shut up," Voxis snapped. "Open the next door."

They paused for several long and terrible seconds, afraid to hope that the ruse was successful. Then N'Vek chuckled softly.

Lorna's jaw dropped. "How can you laugh? What can possibly be funny after what just happened?"

N'Vek snickered again, and scoffed in the direction of the door. "'Major Valiant,' out to make a name for himself, and give glory to Romulus in the process." He laughed even harder. She stared at him for a moment before she cracked herself. Soon they were both carried away in a fit of hilarity.

"You were magnificent, Lorna! Truly, you are an accomplished authoress. _I_ almost believed you!" He grasped her shoulders, and grinned from ear to ear.

"We make a great team, don't we?" The next thing she knew, she was in his strong arms, blissfully surrendering to his kisses.


	8. The Patriot Game

**Hello again, dear readers! Thank you all for those great reviews! Still waiting on the gallant Colonel Lovok to review, though. Where have you been, sir? I do hope you haven't stopped reading my story, because we'll be seeing a good deal of you in these next few chapters. To answer both our handsome colonel and Tribal Graces, we still don't know who our heroine will end up with until the final chapter!  
**

**And...I feel a little guilty because I still owe Bewildered Female my half of the next chapter of "Forbidden Love." Hope she'll forgive me for taking so long! It's currently in the works, so it won't be much longer. Look for that update soon, y'all!**

* * *

The room filled with light, along with a rich, toasty aroma. N'Vek pulled his jacket over his face and groaned. He had been awake on his makeshift bed most of the night, berating himself for his loss of control. It was the most glorious and passionate victory he had ever celebrated. After the kiss, however, they both snapped back to reality. Lorna, her cheeks flushed a bright pink, backed away from him slowly, and then ran out. N'Vek guessed that even though she wrote much about romance, she had never before experienced it.

But now there was no denying it: he was in love with Lorna Winters. His arms ached to hold her again. The prospect of having to merely pretend she was his wife only filled him with longing all the more: he wanted her to be his wife in reality. Oh, what a fool he was, wishing for something that could never be!

He had not exactly chosen to serve in the Star Navy, but it had been of his own volition to play a part in the patriot game against the Tal Shiar. His motivations had been simply that he wanted to make his Empire a better place to live, and end the secret service's reign of terror. An opportunity to do just that had presented itself, and he took it, though he knew it would mean sacrificing his own personal life. Like Lovok and Rakal, he could never allow himself to care for another person. The consequences would inevitably be fatal, for both parties involved.

After tossing and turning all night, he had finally fallen sleep.

Lorna entering the cabin was surprised to find him still lying on the floor. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, N'Vek. I brought you some breakfast, whenever you're ready to eat it."

He forced himself to rise. "No, I'll eat it now. Why didn't you wake me?"

"You were sleeping so peacefully," she awkwardly swirled the liquid around in her mug, "I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Thank you," was the only answer he could contrive. He began to shovel the food into his mouth, if only so that he wouldn't be drowned by the silence. There was meat on his plate. She was always thinking of him. He looked up and saw that she was still staring into her drink. That wouldn't do. It was wrong to punish her for his own discomfort. "Are you well this morning?"

Lorna looked up and smiled, "I'm wonderful."

N'Vek finished chewing his mouthful. _Wonderful?_ "I don't think I've ever seen you this pleased." Rather, he thought she was angry with him.

"You've never seen me with coffee," she returned.

"Coffee? Ah, the beverage to which every human seems addicted."

"Not just humans. The Corvallens were all drinking it at breakfast."

"It's aroma is pleasant enough," he mused.

"You should try it," Lorna encouraged. She stood up and walked over to the coffee maker. "How would you like it?"

He looked up from his breakfast with a quizzical expression.

"Hmmm...you seem like the dark and strong type of man to me."

N'Vek swallowed, remembering the way she had surrendered to his kiss. "Excuse me?"

Lorna chuckled. "Your coffee! I'll make it dark and strong for you."

Feeling a little foolish for jumping to conclusions, he bit his lip, and continued to eat.

"What would you like me to add to it?" she asked, after starting the machine.

"A bit complicated, isn't it?"

"I'll give it to you black, then," she answered patiently. Before long, she placed a mug filled with the mysterious drink on the table in front of him.

"'Black' and 'dark' aren't the same thing?" he asked as he reached to picked it up. Their fingers brushed ever so slightly. He tightened the muscles in his back to control the chill that went down his spine.

"Oh, no," she explained. "'Dark' refers to how long the beans are roasted; 'black' means plain."

"I see." He brought the cup to his lips, inhaling the rich aroma, and took a sip. To his surprise, it didn't taste the way it smelled. It had a bitter flavor, which increased after he swallowed. He decided he liked it.

"Well?" she leaned forward expectantly.

"It is...different. But acceptable." He realized hers wasn't "black." "How do you take yours?"

"Dark and strong, light on the cream, light on the sugar. Sometimes I like it with chocolate."

He pursed his lips together to keep from grinning. "It's no wonder you're so complicated."

"Guilty as charged," she in turn smiled broadly, and typed something on her PADD before rising. Notes for a story, no doubt.

"Where are you going?" His spirits dropped slightly when she headed toward the door.

"I have to check my Fiction Press account. Don't worry," she winked, "it's not under my real name. I'll be back in time for another cup."

N'Vek continued to stare for a few seconds after the doors closed. She _was_ a complicated woman. Each day, he learned a new and unexpected facet of her personality. Each day, he found he was all the more drawn to her.

* * *

Lovok gripped the handle of his chair. It was the only sign of his frustration he permitted himself to show. Beside him, Rakal was less in control.

"_Lost _them? Idiot! How did you ever pass your training at the academy? You're the most incompetent fool I've ever seen!" She was seething.

On the viewscreen, Voxis tightened his jaw. _"Perhaps their profile pictures need to be updated. They didn't resemble them at all."_

"Pathetic excuses! You're worthless, Major!"

Lovok held his hand up for silence. "Where was the freighter bound?"

"_They were going to the Starfleet station Deep Space Nine, Colonel."_

"Oh, we'll reach them long before they get there," said Rakal with relish.

"Thank you, Major Voxis, that will be all." With the wave of his hand, he terminated the link.

"_But Colonel-"_

"Helmsman: lay in a pursuit course and execute." He turned back to Rakal. "This time, you will handle N'Vek. Leave Miss Winters to me."

Rakal raised a brow. "Yes, sir," she ground out. She marched off, not at all thrilled with the order she had just been given. Lovok didn't care. He didn't need her approval, only her obedience. Her naïve devotion to him would ensure that, so he wasn't at all worried. And when he tired of his latest game, she would still be there.

"Keep running, my Lorna," he whispered to himself, "The more you run, the more you will melt into my arms when I catch you."

* * *

When Lorna returned, N'Vek was back to being all business. "We need to get off at Draken IV. Those Tal Shiar will report to Lovok, and he'll no doubt deduce what happened." He paused. "The station is within Federation space. I won't be able to go any farther than that without risking capture."

"Oh," Lorna looked down at her feet, "You've done so much for me already, N'Vek. I'm sure I'll be fine."

N'Vek smiled thinly. "Lorna, there's something I must tell you. Something I haven't even told my own family." He was taking a great risk, but he couldn't bear for her to think he didn't care at all about her. "You must swear never to tell anyone."

She peered curiously at him. "Okay. I swear."

"I'm not what I appear to be," he began, "I'm a member of a secret group of concerned citizens who want to make Romulus a better place to live. Our oppressive government is controlled by the Tal Shiar and crooked politicians who care nothing about the people. I could no longer stand by and do nothing about it. That's why I joined the resistance."

Lorna gasped. "You're a spy, too?"

He rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. "I suppose I am. Listen to me, Lorna, I have a mission to complete. Assuming I survive, I will most likely have to leave Romulus afterwards."

"Oh, N'Vek, that's terrible. I'm so sorry."

He hardened his mouth. "The needs of the few outweigh the needs of the one. My life is nothing compared to the greater good of my people."

"I think you're very brave," she said, with obvious admiration. "When will you leave the Romulan Empire permanently?" Hope gleamed in her eyes.

"I don't know. In all honesty, Lorna, I'm not certain I'll succeed. But for the good of my people I must try." He felt even more like a louse for causing her pain, but what else could he do?

"So...we really will never see each other again?"

He mustered up his courage. "Probably not. To my regret," he quickly added.

* * *

When they reached Draken IV, they both debarked and prepared to go their separate ways.

"Where will you go?" she asked, "When you leave Romulus, I mean."

"I don't know. I suppose I'll think about that if I live long enough to do so."

"Oh, right. I forgot." Lorna sighed. "I just realized that I never thanked you for saving my life."

"Someone had to take the initiative," he replied, trying to sound as though it was nothing to him.

"I'm grateful to you for doing that," she held out her hand.

N'Vek took it. "It was an honor, Miss Winters."

"Goodbye," she said softly, trying to hold back her tears. Her control finally lost, she turned and quickly walked away to her ship. Before he knew it, she was out of sight.

An odd sensation suddenly came over him as he watched her go. He felt warm and tingly all over. Glancing at his right hand—the hand that had touched hers—he shivered with the response that was emanating from it. His heart pounded in his ears, so loudly that he could barely hear any other sounds of the bustling space station around him.

"Goodbye, Lorna," he whispered after her, "I'll always remember you." N'Vek then buried his feelings deep within his heart. He had a job to do, and vowed he would not allow those stirrings to surface ever again. There was no room for hope, or longing that things could be different, only for the task at hand.


	9. A Strange Duet

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone!**

* * *

Embarrassed by the crowd of people around her, Lorna dashed over to the restroom to dry her tears and make herself more presentable. She couldn't have the captain of the station see her, famous authoress that she was, looking like something the cat dragged in. Military officers tended to frown on that sort of thing. She went into a stall and shut the door behind her.

There was a hole in her heart, widened by the sad truth that she knew she would never see N'Vek again. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! How did it come to this? She had such grand dreams of love, of living happily ever after with a man who adored her. All her life she had been terribly lonely. Was it too much to ask for a bit of happiness? Just as when she was a little girl, Lorna felt powerless, miserable because she couldn't change her fate with the stroke of a pen.

After several minutes, she was able to pull herself together. She made for the restroom exit. But before she reached it, she heard the stall door behind her creak open. Two arms seized her, and a hand covered her mouth.

"Do not resist me, Lorna," came her assaulter's voice in her ear. He activated a communicator on his wrist. "This is Lovok. Two to beam up."

* * *

Lorna watched the busy spaceport from a tiny window on Lovok's cloaked ship, wondering why they hadn't yet left orbit. Vessels were coming and going from the docks. _Take me with you_, she wanted to say to each one that left. If only she could bang on the glass, and somehow, someone would hear her. But it was no use; sound simply didn't travel through the void of space.

There was a chime. Lovok entered. He was holding a large box wrapped in gold paper, with a classy, glittering bow. She tore her eyes away from the package, and instead turned back to the window.

"You don't need to be afraid of me," he said gently.

Somehow, she doubted the veracity of his words. "Then why did you kidnap me? You know I'm not a spy."

"I thought that should be obvious by now." His handsome features made her heart flutter, despite the danger she knew she was in. "Dinner will be served soon. Will you join me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice, Lorna."

_Except whether or not I can leave_, she added silently.

He set the box down on the table. "Open it."

Still cautious, Lorna lifted the lid to reveal an elegant dress. It was absolutely gorgeous! Floor-length white satin, it was shimmering with silver sequins. A small rosette on the shoulder finished the gown. She had to admit, it was one of the most beautiful gifts she had ever received. But she checked herself when she remembered that there were strings attached.

He had already seen her first reaction, however, and chose to ignore the second. "I would very much like to see you wear it."

"I'll bet you would." His wounded expression quickly changed her mind. He had shown considerable thoughtfulness by choosing it for her. "Okay," she said, this time without any sarcasm, "I'll have dinner with you. But you'd better not get any other ideas."

"I am honored. Don't worry, I promise to conduct myself like a gentleman." Satisfied for the moment, he bowed and left.

She turned once more to face the window. _Oh, N'Vek, where are you when I need you the most?_

* * *

N'Vek, all the while, was in yet another struggle for his life. Rakal had managed to catch up to him before he could leave the station. Both were trying to gain the advantage—without alerting the Starfleet authorities.

"It's just you and I, N'Vek." The blade in her hand gleamed in the soft lighting of the maintenance footway. Below them, the garbage of the station was heaped into huge containers, waiting to be crushed and dispersed into space the following morning.

"So it is," he held his fists in a defensive position. Unlike his adversary, he didn't have a weapon. He wasn't familiar with Starfleet security, and was concerned that it would have been detected.

She lunged forward, her knife slashing. N'Vek was able to dodge her attack.

"When I'm through with you, I'll be certain to give Miss Winters your regards. And then I'll kill her, slowly." There was a hungry look in her eye, the look of a beast searching for blood. Naturally, she was trying to bait him. N'Vek wisely kept silent, and didn't permit the slightest twinge of fear to form in his heart.

"Lovok has her now, you know," she continued. "I'll wait until he has his way with her, and then she'll die. But how should I kill her?"

At this point, N'Vek found himself wishing he had allowed Ambassador Spock to give him a few meditation lessons before he left Romulus. Outwardly, however, he was certain that his facial expression didn't betray him.

"Strangulation? Asphyxiation? Bleeding? Or perhaps I should just cut her pretty form into a million pieces?"

He swallowed. "Isn't that a bit excessive, even for you?"

"Do you care for her, N'Vek? Did that human woman make you soft? Weak?"

Enough was enough. It was time to turn the tables. "It is you who are soft, Rakal," he taunted, "You have let your jealousy of Lovok's attentions weaken your focus."

A wicked smile came across her face. "Nice try."

But he wasn't through unraveling her yet. He needed to be sure to pause between lashes, so that the previous sting wouldn't dull her to the next. They circled each other a few times before he spoke again. "Lovok doesn't care about you. He's just using you."

"Do you think I'm not aware of that?" She attacked and once more missed, barely. A rush of cool air on his arm told him that his sleeve had borne the brunt of her ire.

"Then why do you continue to play the role of his sycophant?"

"I'm _not_ his sycophant!"

"Yes, you are. Lorna Winters would never stoop to such a position. That's why he wants her and not you." There was more where that came from, but N'Vek soon discovered that no more insults were required.

Unable to bear the cold, hard truth any longer, Rakal shrieked with fury, and dived toward him. This time, he couldn't move out of the way. Instead, he gripped her wrist to keep her knife from plunging into his gut. His normally superior masculine strength wasn't much help here, as Rakal had agility for her ally. A twist of her wrist, and she was free from his grasp.

N'Vek blocked one rapid strike after the other. Rakal's martial skills almost seemed to improve with anger, and he began to wonder if he had made a mistake in goading her on. Too late now. They struggled for a while longer. All at once N'Vek's feet were swept out from underneath him, and he flipped over the railing. Rakal stared after him as he fell down, down into the trash compactor.

Now he was really in trouble. He could, of course, climb out, but that would take time. And that was assuming Rakal didn't turn on the machine. He knew better than to think she wouldn't.

She brushed the dust off her hands. "They always said I was good at taking out the trash." With a malicious laugh, she activated the switch.

* * *

Lovok's face colored slightly when she entered the candlelit room. "Lorna, you're enchantingly beautiful. Even more so than the evening we first met."

"When you tried to kill me?"

"A mistake I would do anything to change." He pulled one of the chairs out, and gestured for her to sit. She reluctantly complied with his request.

"And now, to complete the look." He opened another smaller box, and offered her a silver tiara. "For the queen of my heart." Lorna blinked in surprise, then nodded. He placed it on her head, then took his own seat. "Yes," he said in awe, "It suits you perfectly, just like the dress. I knew it would."

The setting was flawlessly romantic. On the table, she noticed there was a single, red rose. The only light came from the hundreds of tiny candles flickering around the room. It was everything she could have wanted, just like a magical dream. Lovok was the perfect host, and as he promised, he behaved like a gentleman. His dark, mysterious looks reminded her of the Phantom of the Opera. Ironic, considering they first met at an opera.

_Sing once again with me_

_Our strange duet_

_My power over you_

_Grows stronger yet_

_You'll give your love to me_

_For love is blind..._

A traitorous part of her imagination wondered if he could sing, but she quickly forced the idea out of her head. If he thought she was going to swoon like Christine, he was wrong.

After a dinner worthy of the finest restaurants of Paris, he escorted her to the large bay window. The cut of the glass gave the illusion that one could simply reach out and touch the stars. Lorna wished she could float through it out into space and escape, before she lost herself in this fairy tale.

"The stars are beautiful, are they not?" She could barely make out his reflection behind her.

Lorna nodded, but said nothing.

He moved closer and took her hand, choosing his words carefully before continuing. "I meant what I said about your stories. They taught me that love is never impossible, no matter what the circumstances. Before you, I never questioned that my life would always be cold and lonely."

"Wait, are you saying that you...love me?"

"I don't merely love you, Lorna. You pierce my soul—I can't exist without you! Can you not see that it has been for you alone that I have thought and planned?"

_So, he reads Jane Austen, too. _ Captain Wentworth was her favorite Austen hero, as Lovok was no doubt well aware. She couldn't help but be flattered that he was quoting what was, in her opinion, the most romantic letter ever written. And yet...something was fishy. "This all feels like a game to me."

"It was at first," he admitted, "but something happened that I didn't expect. I lost my heart to you. Tell me it isn't too late to win yours. Lorna, put aside the past and run away with me. We'll have a life together."

Lorna couldn't help but be moved by his words. She wanted to believe him, to surrender to him. Though she still cared about N'Vek, she was tired of the uncertainty of his affections, tired of his constant advancing and retreating. She understood his reasons, but was frustrated nonetheless. It was heart-wrenching that he cared more about his duty than he did about her.

And here was Lovok, confessing his undying love. Was he even capable of love? Half of her wanted to swoon, but the other half was wary. She was already acquainted with his cruel side. "But you're a part of the Tal Shiar—and what about Rakal? Doesn't she care for you?"

"Rakal," he practically spat her name. "She is but a means to an end. Oh, she has her uses. I sent her off to take care of N'Vek. When she returns, she'll be re-assigned. I'll have no jealousy between us."

Lorna gasped. "N'Vek is dead?" Tears welled up in her eyes. "But..but he saved my life."

"Before you mourn his loss, remember that he left you. _ I_ would not do that to you, Lorna. I intend to make you my wife."

"What?" She was still horrified.

"Let me speak, please. I am grateful to N'Vek on one account: that he stopped me from harming you. You must understand that I was only doing my duty. Now that we know the truth about each other, I beg you to forgive me."

"But why did you have to kill him?"

"Experience has taught me never to leave a stone unturned, for that is always where one's enemy will seek refuge, and return another day."

By now, her cheeks were wet. "You're very cruel."

"I know." He tenderly wiped a tear away. "That's why I need you to show me how to change."

_Cruel and crazy_, she clarified mentally. With this revelation, all attraction she felt for Lovok melted away. N'Vek was gone, so she would have to rely on her own devices. There would be time to mourn him later. Right now, she had to escape. But how?

* * *

**As some of you have no doubt guessed, the inspiration for this chapter came from **_**Phantom of the Opera**_**. Lovok looks a little like Gerard Butler, but I imagine he'd probably sing more like Michael Crawford. ;-)**


End file.
